


A true friend and a true enemy

by 1000lux



Series: Two Cautious Men [2]
Category: Borgia: Faith and Fear
Genre: M/M, Mind Games, Obsession, Smut, enemies to tentative allies, sorta dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-24 11:52:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: Continuation to 'To have Cesare or to have nothing'





	A true friend and a true enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own rights to the show or it's characters.
> 
> So, this is the continuation to my first installment. I couldn't leave those two alone, but for a long time the story wouldn't take shape except for disconnected scenes. But now I feel it's finished.
> 
> This story actually contains a sorta explicit sex scene. ^///^ Please don't laugh at me, I tried.
> 
> The title is from Machiavelli's 'the Prince'.

In the beginning of the malady it is easy to cure but difficult to detect, but in the course of time, not having been either detected or treated, it becomes easy to detect but difficult to cure

(Machiavelli - The Prince)

****

Cesare cut the man down right in front of the council, his sword getting stuck a bit when he pulled it out again.

Della Rovere only smiled humoringly at the cocky smirk with which he was presented.

"That was necessary, yes?" He asked, just for the sake of the other cardinals.

"Why, would I have done it otherwise?" Cesare replied with a good-natured smile.

*

He honestly hadn't quite anticipated the impact reinstating Cesare would cause. The fact that Cesare had fallen seemed to have made him only more feared, now that he was back. Which wasn't that surprising, given the bloody crusade he'd led through the Romagnia since his return (sanctioned by the pope this time). And the fact that he had Cesare by his side, well, it had certainly strengthened his position. He was the man who held the leash to the rabid dog. People were scared by their alliance, partly because they didn't understand it. Because they didn't understand how they could have possibly come to a consensus after everything that had went down. Because they had expected him to try and destroy him once he'd had him. Because they'd thought them both too vengeful to be able to put their differences to rest. And honestly, the last word wasn't yet spoken on that matter. Della Rovere didn't feel as save with Cesare at his side as he showed it to the outside and he was sure Cesare didn't feel much different. But, funnily enough, their interactions were mainly marked by a certain ease, good humor, like they were both sharing a joke on everyone else's expense. And maybe they were.

*

"You can't be serious about this!" Cardinal Riario-Sansoni admonished. "He will turn on you, he will turn on all of us. And maybe this time you won't be so lucky!"

"I don't like your tone, Raffaele. As I recall I am still God's proxy on earth, so I would say my word is not to be questioned."

"Just because you want to fuck him?! Be reasonable! Your obssesion with the son is even more disturbing than your hate for the father. You destroyed Borgia let it be."

*

How had he ever thought that he wanted to destroy him? That his ultimate defeat would bring him supreme gratification. That that was the path their relationship was taking. Humiliating him. Breaking him. Eventually killing him. That had been his plan. Hell, his whole proposal had aimed towards that goal. But how the tides had turned the moment this fantasy, that had been his constant companion for years now, had been about to become a probable outcome.

*

"I'm going to visit my sister in Ferrara."

"Are you going to come back?"

"I think you are just desperate enough to find that out."

And Cesare did return as he'd done before each and every time he'd gone on campaign. It should have made Della Rovere secure in his hold on Cesare, but truly it didn't. There was no security in this thing they had, for neither of them. Just the tentative knowledge that for now it was alright.

*

"I said no, Cesare!" Della Rovere said. "You are going to heed my words. Or would you like to see the inside of a cell again?"

"Oh, threats now? You need me." Cesare stalked around Della Rovere's seat like a prowling tiger. "Which softbrained idiot will lead your army once I'm gone?"

Yet they both knew that Cesare's position wasn't as secure as he'd have liked. Della Rovere had already proven that he could do without him. Cesare's brilliance wasn't in question, but he had only exactly what Della Rovere granted him. And he could take it away at any given moment. The other sway that Cesare had over him he hadn't made use of again since that night. Della Rovere wasn't sure whether he regretted it or whether he was afraid of the moment he would choose to.

*

He revelled in his submission, yet alarmingly enough, he revelled in his defiance just the same.

*

They had spent hours into the night in his private quarters, dicussing the next moves over several cups of wine. Just the two of them. It was no concern of anyone else. Very few people they had any degree of respect for except the other.

They weren't lovers, not friends, not even comrades. They were sharing a common goal. A degree of respect. A symbiosis that worked because they knew how dangerous the other was. A shared camaraderie on the basis that they looked down on all the rest, together.

*

It was like a bad repeat of the last time. He had won his battle for Forli sure enough, but he'd been injured, hadn't paid any mind to it and on the way back to Rome it had become infected. Now he was battling a fever and wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed and never get up again. Instead, though, he was welcomed by papal guards who awaited him in front of his rooms.

"We are to escort you to the Castel Sant'Angelo."

Cesare fought back as good as he could in his state, killed at least five of them, before they dragged him away.

Of course Della Rovere wouldn't keep his word. He'd only waited for him to show weakness again to turn on him.

At first he waited in front of the door of the room he was confined to, armed with a candlestick. Then he just felt too bad and laid down. 

He didn't know how much time had passed when Della Rovere arrived.

"How are you?" He asked. "Have you seen a doctor yet?"

"Fuck you." Cesare answered, not bothering to lift his head off the pillow. "I should have choked you with your own fucking guts that night."

"What has brought on that particular bad mood? I thought the room is quite nice. I picked it out myself."

"Am I going to get a trial or another one of your offers?"

Della Rovere looked at him with narrowed eyes, then he laughed. "I believe there has been a misunderstanding. We got word of a planned conspiracy. Everyone has been moved here currently for security's sake. Didn't the guards tell you?"

"Oh, I'm sure you told them not to. You enjoyed this, didn't you? A little display to show me the precariousness of my situation."

"Did you listen to them before you started butchering them?" Della Rovere asked wryly. "I'll send by a doctor later. Try not to massacre him."

*

"Get yourself back to bed, for Christ's sake! You're no help to anyone in your state."

"I'm not going to stay away from that meeting." Cesare replied stubbornly through chattering teeth.

"I'm not going to have you replaced while you're gone for one day." Della Rovere said with mild irritation, more fondness than he was comfortable with echoing in his words.

*

Della Rovere wanted him badly. But their positions weren't as they used to be and their precarious peace was not to be upset. No matter how much he wanted to feel his flesh again. Cesare was much more important as commander of his troops than he was as his whore. And Della Rovere had always been a practical man, a lot more practical than his cousin gave him credit for.

*

"You're so beautiful it takes my breath away everytime I look at you."

A lazy sneer, as the other mockingly toasted to him.

"If I let you march on Venice, would you suck my cock?"

A low strike met by a derisive stare that made Della Rovere feel exactly as dirty and disgusting as he was.

"What's your fascination with me sucking your cock?" Cesare asked with a laugh. "Given that I have no experience with it, I doubt you'd get quite what you're looking for."

"How would you know what I'm looking for?" Della Rovere replied with a question of his own.

Cesare's features hardened. "And if you seek to humiliate me through it, that's not going to happen either."

"Do you," Della Rovere asked mildly. "given what we've learned of each other, do you truly think that's what I'm after?"

*

A defeat. Not the first one, but the first since their ill-fitted alliance. Would he be dropped for something like this? He didn't have to return to Rome, but really where else would he go?

*

Cesare walked through the rows of cardinals, facing their hatred and happiness over his defeat with disregard. They were fools if they hated him more than they hated their shared enemy. He came to stop in front of Della Rovere. 

"I have returned from battle to request reinforcements for my troops."

Della Rovere smiled at him, aloof and maybe a little mocking. "We are vastly glad that the protector of Rome has returned unharmed."

*

Della Rovere moved towards where Cesare was sitting on the bed, only a robe wrapped around him, that had fallen open. He came to stop in front of him, one hand lifting his face. Cesare allowed the touch, which was more than he had these past months. Let Della Rovere step closer to him, pushing the robe off his shoulders, his fingertips itching mere moments away from Cesare's skin. Instead he leaned down and kissed him. Softly, nothing lecherous or dirty about it just yet. Cesare let him tilt his head further only too easily, his throat exposed to him. 

Della Rovere savored the taste of Cesare's lips. There was nothing left of the dust of the road or the blood from battle, on his freshly bathed skin. And still he thought he could taste it. 

And then Cesare did something unexpected. He kissed him back. Not much, just an infinitisimal pressure instead of just not moving away. A slight rasp of his lips against Della Rovere's, his lower lip catching on the other's. It made Della Rovere weak-kneed and almost faint with desire. For a moment he kissed back harder, open mouthed, his hand buried into Cesare's hair. Then he caught himself again and moved away. 

Cesare looked unperturbed, sitting there uncaring of his almost nakedness. Granted there was nothing of him that he hadn't already seen. He looked unshaken, unmoved if maybe for his lips a little redder. And Della Rovere thought once more, oh, what dangerous, little incubus had he brought into his home. What chance did he have to control this power? For he was sure that Cesare could have whatever he wanted from anyone, the way he was right now.

Whatever game they were playing here tonight, the stakes unclear (But how could they possibly be higher than the last time?), he planned to take full advantage of it. Wasn't yet sure how far he could push. To what point Cesare had decided to indulge him tonight.

He lifted a hand, letting a finger run down Cesare's chest. "May I?" he asked.

Cesare simply leaned back on the bed, meeting Della Rovere's eyes steadily.

This was not the submission it seemed to be. Cesare was scared, rattled. He'd seen that in the court room, no matter how good he'd been at hiding it. Cesare was afraid of his position, afraid of what Della Rovere would do to him, because of this defeat. But this, here, this was manipulation. Cesare showed his weakness here with intent. Gave Della Rovere what he'd withheld all these months. Played along with the trope of the bird with the broken wing.

And how right the young Borgia was, how well he'd been judged by the man bared before him. Della Rovere felt like a starving man when his lips touched Cesare's skin. Moving down the sharp lines of his torso, lithe and muscled. The inside of his thighs. Before closing around his cock. 

This time Cesare did not manage to stay unaffected. Aborted, barely-there noises leaving his mouth. One arm thrown over his face as he now lay fully on his back, his legs drawn up on either side of where Della Rovere's face was buried in his flesh.

It was as much of a victory as Della Rovere would ever get out of Cesare. As much as he could care to take. For winning or losing was of little importance to him in this.

When he was done and Cesare still lay there, spent and for once mellow. He licked his way further down across his balls and his perineum, lifting his hips slightly to gain better access. At first Cesare didn't seem to take much notice of it until the tongue breached him and he startled, trying to move away.

Della Rovere did move away. But only to say, "Turn over." Cesare had started this game and he was going to play it out to the end. The other was free to tell him no, but he had a feeling he wouldn't, for there was nothing he could ask that Cesare hadn't calculated to give up today. And as ultimately the price would be Della Rovere's to pay, for now he would have his dues.

Cesare hesitated, flushed and wary, not on top of his game for once. Unlike the last time he looked more bewildered than afraid though.

Then he did turn on his stomach and Della Rovere resumed what he'd been doing.

His own garments, which had never come off, were stained from the inside by now. His member hard and leaking. Lust washing through him with unbearable fury, as under him he felt the tension leave Cesare's body, unwillingly receptive to what he was doing. Breath coming harsh where his face was buried in his arms. Sweat pooling in the small of his back, spilling down when involuntary shudders ran through his body, lifting his pelvis off the bed. Now and then disbelieving curses leaving his mouth.

Della Rovere dislodged himself from Cesare's insides then, ridding himself of his own clothes, to settle himself atop the other man. Lifting his hips up until the other was on all fours. It was easy to breach him now, still the other gave a jolt of shock or revulsion. Cesare was hard again, which had been the point of the act before, other than Della Rovere just needing to. And he knew Della Rovere knew it. And from the jerky shudders that went through him this did nothing to diminish it.

When it was done, Cesare looked like he couldn't quite believe what had happened either. And Della Rovere allowed himself to brush a sweaty curl out of his face. The all consuming lust for now at bay, replaced with something threateningly close to tenderness.

He realised the best feeling in the world was Cesare needing him. Needing his support, needing his protection. Unspokenly acknowledging that need and being willing to do anything to gain it.

An entirely needless sacrifice but Della Rovere would not tell him that. Knew just as well that he must not expect more, had Cesare only reminded him what he would lose if he was to turn from him.

"I'm looking forward to your next defeat," Della Rovere said thumbing over Cesare's lower lip.

The other gave a sharp laugh and got out of bed. Shaky for only a moment, before he picked up his clothes undeterred, disposition restored seemingly. He got himself a glass of wine, offering one to Della Rovere, before he checked the water in the by now cooling bathtub, but obviously decided against bathing in all that old blood and dust again.

Cesare turned to the man who'd been watching him all this time then. "I'm going to order myself another bath. You might not want to be here when it arrives." It was cool and unbothered. No more hesitation, no more weakness. Cesare had received the answer he'd been looking for. Eventually it had been Della Rovere baring his throat.

He had lost, but that had been a predetermined outcome from the start. A truth universally acknowledged, that still had to be spoken aloud from time to time. It did not mean he could not enjoy his defeat as it happened. "Oh," Della Rovere righted himself on the bed. "But maybe I do. Do you imagine my servants aren't handpicked and know exactly what's going on in my house?"

"Very well." Cesare only shrugged.

And Della Rovere did watch as the bath had been refilled and Cesare stripped off his robe again, settling himself inside. Head leaned back, hair spilling over the rim.

He did get up then, passing him by, putting his fingers to his lips and pressing them against Cesare's hair. "Goodnight, Protector of Rome."

Then he left, feeling too good entirely to consider the gains and losses of this night. 

*

He wasn't sure exactly what he'd said that had made Cesare laugh, was too caught up by watching it happen, the sound, the emotion splayed over his face for a moment.

"Guiliano." Cesare said exasperated.

"Why don't you call me Julius?"

Cesare snorted. "Now you're aiming too high."

*

Cesare had become too dear to him. And that was the real word. Not that debilitating and half-blinding lust that made him act more like beast than man, no, a genuine appreciation for the other as a person. A haze of apparent companionship that had overlayed in his mind what this really was. A truce between enemies. He should have just sent Cesare to his death and left his aching mind and cock in turmoil, rather than this snare that had snapped shut. Reality even more intoxicating and inescapable than his manic fantasy had been.

*

"I already took all I wanted!" Della Rovere yelled. "How dare you oppose me, you little whore?! What would your father say if he knew what you did?"

"Given how very easily he always sold me off when it suited him, I'd say he'd say, well done." Cesare replied perfectly cold, perfectly in control. "And you took nothing, Guiliano. Everything you wanted was given to you, by me. Including the chair of St. Petri."

*

"No, he'll march through Rome, one way or another." Cesare said, dismissively burning the letter in the fireplace.

"I know." Della Rovere replied irritatedly. Being at odds with a man who was not only dangerous but also a close friend of Cesare, when it was Cesare he had to rely on to protect the papal throne, wasn't anything he'd looked forward to.

"I would think I should march on him, before he gets here."

"Are you?" Della Rovere snapped, against all intentions of not showing his true feelings on this. "Are you going to march on him?"

"Why certainly." Cesare smiled like seeing Giuliano like this was the greatest joke in the world. "I am the Protector of Rome, after all."

"It would seem like this would be the perfect opportunity to leave and join back up with your friend and benefactor."

"So it would seem, wouldn't it?" Cesare shrugged. "By all means, send someone else. Whoever you deem equipped to deal with this kind of threat. Or even better, allow Luis after all to lead his troops through Rome."

*

Cesare had been taken prisoner. By none other than his old friend King Luis of France. The news reached Della Rovere at breakfast and made it thus the last meal he took that day, as he spent the rest of it venting and pacing, trying to figure out what next step to take, what next step he could take at all, without being seen exactly as weak and pathetic as he was.

He had sent Cesare against Luis himself, despite knowing their friendship. What other choice had he had. It was Cesare's job to protect the Vatican and Luis was once more marching into it's territory, not accepting even the word of the Church of Rome over his own.

*

"My falcon," Luis said, entering the tent where Cesare was confined. He hugged him, kissing him on both cheeks.

They sat together over a lunch of roasted venison, fruit and wine.

"It is time for you to come home." Luis said, leaning close, a hand on Cesare's wrist "We heard what befell you in Rome."

Cesare smiled. "And still you were not there when I needed you."

"Ah, old friend. I told you why I could not support your campaign. But you would have been welcome to stay under my protection, as you well know."

"Indeed. As I chose not to." Cesare smiled politely.

"Stay." Luis emphazised again. "Be my falcon again and go to battle for me."

Cesare could easily deduce from his stance, his close proximity, his low-coming breath. The travel of his eyes. The faint flush of his cheek. And while Cesare had always known this on some level, it disgusted him in this moment. That this man who'd called himself his friend would try to pounce on him while he deemed him weakened and still had not been willing to take half as much of a risk as Della Rovere had, to gain the same thing. Well, back then, Cesare would have probably done anything for the promise of an army, had Luis had the same daring as the man now sitting in Rome. Right now, though, he wasn't. And all he did was give a sharp laugh and throw an arm around Luis shoulder, leading him to the exit of the tent. "That is a talk for a different time, my friend. First you must tell me all about how my wife and daughter are."

*

His boots were mud-stained and his beard had started growing out again. His hair looked like it hadn't been combed for a quite a while. There was a sword at his side that wasn't his own. He looked maybe a little tired, a little exhausted, but overall glowing with victory and self-satisfaction. Basically Cesare Borgia looked exactly as delactable and dangerous as he'd always had.

All he spared Della Rovere was a half-hazard bow, as he made his way to his rooms, giving a few orders to the soldiers already lining up. Della Rovere followed, unasked, uninvited, but probably expected, as Cesare didn't as much as bat an eyelash when Della Rovere closed the door behind them, and simply sent out the servant who'd brought him a bowl of fresh hot water.

Della Rovere just watched for the time being, as Cesare started taking off his dusty travel clothes and proceded to wash himself, uncaring of his companion and seemingly not seeing any need to talk, whether to ask questions or deliver answers.

Finally Cesare actually faced him, body lean and trim, as always, everything below the V of his hips hid behind the the wash-basin.

"You tried to negotiate my release." Cesare started off as greeting.

"And still you managed to flee." Della Rovere stated, pleased beyond reason to see the man he'd, if at all, only expected to see again when he took Rome. "I did not think you'd return."

"I'd rather have an enemy who keeps his word than a friend who is naught but empty talk." Cesare replied simply, a certain darkness about his words.

*

Are you alright?" Della Rovere asked, taking Cesare by surprise.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He'd been caught up again, in thoughts of Luis. The implicit demand he'd made. Making him wonder what would have happened had he stayed, what liberties Luis had considered his due with his broken-winged falcon. Bringing his mind back to Marcantonio, who hadn't demanded at all, but taken. Making him also think of yet another man, who he'd deliberately allowed to take liberties with his body. Even though, as whoring went the price had been more than fair. Cesare did not hold himself in quite that high esteem to consider his body the worth of the entire papal army. Even though seemingly it was. Cesare did not quite hate him in that moment, as all his resentment was concentrated on his former friend. And as wrongs go, this man in front of him hadn't done worse by him than expected or than given in return. A trustworthy enemy as of late. More trustworthy even than all of Cesare's former friends. Farnese came to mind. There was Machiavelli of course. But he's far away and an opportunist when it came down to it. And there's of course his beloved Lucrezia. But she's far away too. So in Rome he was alone as could be. Being feared didn't use to bother him when he still had family. It didn't bother him now. What did bother him was that Giuliano Della Rovere of all people was the closest to a friend he currently had in Rome. And that he, as if to pay proof to that, had the ability to judge Cesare's mood and pull knowledge from it that Cesare wasn't willing to give. It was one thing to let an enemy into your body, but you shouldn't let him into your mind. Yet that's what close proximity and shared enemies did.

Della Rovere just stared at him assessing, mouth twisted in contemplation, like he was just figuring out what had happened at Luis' camp, what exactly had made Cesare come back, and wasn't letting him go till now. Cesare saw the moment when conclusion hit him and for some reason displeasure spread across his face, like something was bothering him personally and he couldn't think how to address it.

"Marcantonnio Colonna," Della Rovere started.

"I'm not discussing that." Cesare interjected pleasantly, in a way that was more worrying than anger or embarrassment would have been.

"What you and I..." Della Rovere started again, seeming impatient with his own inability to voice what he meant.

Cesare gave a sharp laugh, hand relaxing, that had subconsciously been itching for his dagger. "Oh, don't you worry, I'm still able to tell the difference between rape and whoring." He gave another laugh at the wince Della Rovere gave at the latter word, schooling his features immediately, knowing that this was exactly what it was.

"Good." Della Rovere simply replied. Grimly. Throwing the insult right back at Cesare but seeming bothered by it.

Cesare almost wanted to laugh again. Oh, Guilliano, do not tell me you wish there to be more than that? Although, had he not just in his mind made a case study as to why it was just that? More by now. More than it ever should have been. Even though the practical part of Cesare's mind commented, did they not both benefit from this? Had this brittle and unstable partnership, that was never meant to be permanent, not become so much more stronger through it, giving them both more power in turn? And had that not been the whole point of it? What hardship was it to let Della Rovere lust for his body? Why should he not allow himself to let this truce settle in a sort of equilibrium, as long as he still staid on guard? What truly had he to fear, from this man who belonged more to him than Cesare had ever to him? No matter his threats or insults, Cesare had held him in his hands even when he had been the one in chains. He could not fathom that obsession, nor the newly surfaced wish to have it returned. Unsettled even more by the glimpses of something too soft-edged to be obsession, he found directed at himself from time to time. For it meant Della Rovere felt it too, the shift in their relationship. The trust neither wanted to give that still had been given time and time again. Cesare knew how to be the center of ill-fitted obsession, he did not know, though, how to deal with this sudden shift to affection, while it should have only made him more powerful. He could only think what must have changed for that to be possible. Della Rovere was no fool, despite his decisions concerning Cesare often on the foolish side. But not to such a degree. Affection implied trust. And they should have never gotten to the point where they felt secure enough to trust the other.

*

"Undress." Della Rovere said. At Cesare's look, "I'm not going to touch you. I just want to look at you."

With a snort and complete uninhibition, Cesare stripped off his clothes, standing there, arms stretched out. Like a fucking king. Seemingly he had decided that it was easy to indulge him in this. Or it amused him. To dangle himself in front of him, always out of reach. Knowing that Della Rovere was fiending for the few glances he got of him when he returned from campaign. But Della Rovere had asked many offensive things. Some in jest, but only ever half so. And Cesare had never complied.

How had one night been able to ruin him for all times. It had been meant to douse the fire, not to burn him alive.

"What is it?" Cesare asked curiosly, slily. "What is it I symbolize to you that you cannot let go?"

"When all the world wants you," Della Rovere answered, more tiredly than anything. "Is it so very strange that I do too?"

Cesare laughed loud and surprised, carefree in a way he hadn't seen him maybe since the year he first came to the Vatican.

This pact that should have had them both on edge and in a constant state of vigilance, they had both settled into it too comfortably. Because it was a simple truth they were so much better off together than as enemies.

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing those two. But I always have to tread a careful line there, because while I was trying to show how they slowly find a bit of common ground, something like an actual relationship could never be possible, I think (or we'll see^^° When the writing fury strikes me again, who knows what could happen?).


End file.
